


Devils Trap

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean/Sam - Freeform, Humour, I wrote this on a bus, I'm sorry not sorry, M/M, Rockband AU, Supernatural - Freeform, Wincest - Freeform, grammar? whats grammar?, have fun, i dont know, whats diction?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:54:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4813994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rockband AU. Sam--the dreamy Gothic rock star(that is actually a really nice kid trying to get himself through college). Dean--The bisexual fan and admirer of the Bassist--Sam Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devils Trap

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THIS!!!!  
> Okay, so I'm going to be shitfaced honest with you, reader. This fic probably has thousands of grammatical errors--the syntax and diction is probably shit in the dumpster but I'm putting this here anyways, because #yolo  
> You heard me, I did put syntax, #yolo and diction in the same paragraph. You only live once. Anyways, if this AU takes off I'll put more effort into it. I suppose. Anyways, I apologize for this catastrophe.

"You didn't!" 

 

"Yeah I did, De!" Benny yelled at him with joy over the loud sound of the bar they were currently at. "The concert is tomorrow, and _he's_ going to be there." 

 

"Well of course he's going to be there, dumbass." Dean was staring at the concert tickets with a shit-eating grin and awe. Devils Trap is the biggest band in America and he's going to be in the fucking front row. This is a big deal to him because it's the only modern band he listens to--well the only modern band he worships; Especially the bass guitarist. He could hear his friend chuckle at his reaction, but he didn't mind for once. 

 

"Thanks Ben." He looked up, grin still plastered in place. Ben smiled and shook his head.

 

"I only scored these tickets by flashing my journalist badge around. So tomorrow, we're reporters and we also are interviewing the band. Okay?" Ben leaned back in his seat, and took a swig of beer and smiled at Dean, who was smiling ever larger. "Quit smiling your going outta character."

 

"Shut the fuck up."

 

"That's the Dean I know and love." 

 

"No homo."

 

"Dean your bi."

 

"Shut the fuck up."

 

0-0

 

"Sam, come on man. Put more on." Ruby glared at her best friend and tried to smudge on more black eyeshadow around his eyes, but Sam wined and shooed her persistent hand away.

 

"I hate that stuff, Ruby!" He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "I really don't like that at all."

 

"Sam, you're the demon-blood-drinking-devil-vessel boy-king of hell. You have to look like it!" She narrowed her eyes insistently and cocked her hip. 

 

"That's just a persona! I'm nothing like that..."

 

"Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know which one you're going to get." A new voice emerged into the room and they both sighed. 

 

"Whatever Luke."

 

"It's Lucifer!" Luke sat beside Sam on the couch he was resigning and patted Sam's face awkwardly, like a perverted uncle of sorts. "And you should put some more eye shadow on, it'll make you look more demonic." Sam waved his hand away and pouted. 

 

"But I don't want to be demonic. I want to go to college."

  
"In time, young padawan. In time." Luke stood up and trotted over the black, lush carpet to the door and stopped. "Curtain opens in ten then we have an interview." He closed the door quickly before Sam could object. Sam exhaled for thirty seconds as Ruby stood back up and smeared the midnight black makeup on and readjusted his black spiked choker.

 

0-0

 

Screams filled the concert audience, bodies were mashed together as the melodic sound of bass guitar reached Dean's ears. The black curtains moved agonizingly slow, revealing Lucifer first--the lead vocal that was placed at the very front and Ruby--the demonic drummer and then Sam on bass guitar. Sam looked so perfect, with his multi dimensional eyes encased in black and that dark hazel hair stuck to his face. The dark leather contrasted to his rather pale skin and thick, bulgy chains were hanging off his small waist. He looked beautiful. The song was just a cheerio away from being just as beautiful as Sam-- especially his vocal and guitar solo. Dean inferred they did this since Sam was so young his voice could reach higher notes that Luke couldn't-- he's never been so right. The stage had a literal blood red Devils trap surrounding the entire band. Dean could practically see the makeup on Sam drip a bit, his faces and it intrigued Dean to no end.

 

0-0

 

"Gross. This is one of the reasons why I hate this stuff." Sam mumbled to himself as glared at the black, creamy makeup that was practically dripping down his face in streaks. He sighed and stood up, took five minutes to unclasp the leather buckles and chains, then wriggled out of the layers of clothing. He sighed as he stepped into the shower, watching black swirls make their way around the drain before getting sucked in. He heard a knock on the bathroom door and quickly dried off to meet whoever is at the door--probably Ruby. He just wrapped a towel around his waist, ignoring his sopping wet hair. 

 

0-0

It took all of his restraint, and some, not to push this kid against a wall and attack those lips; but Dean settled himself. "Uh, I'll come back later..." He mumbled out, and the kid was staring at him. Dean assumed that famous bassists aren't used to being looked in the eye, but after a moment Sam downright blushed. What??

 

"N-no it's okay. Just give me a moment to get dressed." Sam ducked his head a bit and disappeared behind a hall, leaving Dean speechless. A thousand thoughts ran through Dean's head. Why was Sam, the demon-blood-drinking demon boy king so shy and polite? What's going on? Why did he look a thousand more times attractive without the get-up? "Sorry about that." Sam emerged, wearing sweatpants and a hoody and Dean was still facing the wal--awkwardly trying to peice this shit together. This kid was at least four years younger--so nineteen maximum. Dean swiveled around and eyed the boys form. He was tall, but his hips were rather slim. "Um..." Dean gaze shot up, like he was caught eyeing a chic's rack then their 'eyes'--what they 'supposedly' want you to notice wearing a push up bra when she already has D cups--Dean isn't complaining though. As Dean looked at the younger boy's face, the more he came to a conclusion. 

 

Sam looked totally like a twink without all of the leather, chains and black makeup.  


 

"Sorry," Dean started, trying to come up with an excuse of any kind. "I was just thinking about your twinkyness and-- your eyes. Mostly your eyes."


End file.
